More Things To Say
by Jelach
Summary: "Behind those walls that won't come down, I'm sure you had more things to say." Bella wishes she'd done something, anything other than what she did. She didn't do anything. She just stood there. Inspired by Boyce Avenue's "More Things To Say." BPOV, enjoy xxx :


I don't know what I could have done, but it should have been more than nothing. I just stood there and watched him go, walking out of my life and taking everything with him. There is not a day that goes by when I don't regret that day. There is not a day when I don't regret that decision. It's become such a part of me, consuming my mind and altering my entire being.

It happened on a Sunday, late evening, after sundown. We were sitting by the lake, stargazing and talking, as had become our custom. He had given me a locket, heart shaped and silver, to which he kept the key. Inside was the most beautiful picture of him and me, laughing as we'd taken a picnic in Central Park. I remember what he said when he put the locket around my neck, his face lighting up into the crooked smile that I had fallen in love with.

"Now we'll always be together, where no one can get in the way. No interruptions, only complete freedom to be alone with each other, the only sort of alone I'll ever enjoy. I love you."

It was the first time he'd officially said the three words. They were small and insignificant to him, but they meant so much more to me, they were a promise. A promise which I broke when I did nothing.

I still have the locket, even though the key is long lost. Even though the holder of the key left long ago. I have a larger copy of the photograph on my mantelpiece, serving as a constant reminder of happier times, but I still long to see the original smaller photo cut into a heart.

The heart is constantly there, a cold weight on my chest that keeps him in my mind. It is the only cold that I ever feel, apart from the icy coldness of regret. The reminder is as hollow as my real heart, cold and empty without the one to fill it with life again. He's never coming back. Venom pools in my tearducts, burning instead of giving me the relief I seek. It refuses to collect into teardrops, instead remaining dancing on the edge of my eyes. I wonder if he ever cries, wherever he went on to afterwards.

We had walked home slowly, savouring the feeling of being young and in love. We were so carefree, laughing and singing familiarly as we made our way back to his house. I'd never met his parents, despite the fact that we'd been friends since primary school. He always had an excuse to not take me to his place. I was really excited to finally see where he lived and to spend the evening with him where he belonged.

I knew something was wrong the second we turned into Madison avenue. He stiffened at the sound of his name, the harsh, cold voice throwing daggers at him from across the road. He visually shrunk, nervous of the old man across the street. It occurred to me that Edward never spoke of his father, and changed the subject subtly whenever it was brought up.

"I want to kiss you, before you meet my father. Never forget that I love you," he had said, pressing his lips to mine in an innocent yet mind-shattering, earth-bending kiss which left me aching for more. I still ache for more to this day, but I know I won't find it. I swallow the lump in my throat, the only solid I'm able to swallow, and press on with my reminiscing.

I never found out what the more that I was yearning for was, as Edward guided me carefully across the road, the true handsome gentleman that he was. On my best behaviour, I smiled at Edward's father. He frowned in response, crinkling his nose as if he smelled something bad. I was wearing plenty of perfume, so I knew I smelled alright but irrationally, I turned my head and subtly sniffed my shoulder. I thought I smelled fine. His father made me feel uncomfortable, out of place. I'd had no idea that Edward was from such a posh family, always presuming his chivalry was from his pure heart.

Edward noticed my uneasiness and squeezed the hand he was still holding. The gesture was familiar and comforted me immediately. His father glared at the union of our hands and I realised that he didn't approve of his son's choices. Edward ignored

his father, squeezing my hand harder. I relaxed under his touch before introducing myself.

"Hello, sir, my name is Bella," I said, smiling politely as his father frowned down upon me.

"I know, you can call me Mr Cullen," he replied, harsh and cold in his tone. "Can I have a second alone with Edward, I need to tell him some important news?" he asked, but it didn't feel much like a question. He was oppressive in the worst sense of the word. I nodded in assent and gave Edward a small kiss on the cheek, a promise that I'd wait for him to come back.

He was gone for an unusually long time, disappearing into the house where I could just see his angel face through the window.

Every nerve in my body was being torn away, I was in agony watching this. His face was contorted into a mask of pain, grossly obscured by the intensity of his emotion. He was almost unrecognisable, the unfamiliar expression altering his face in a way that sent liquid dread down my throat. The wince on his features sent a spidery chill down my spine which pooled in my gut. I had an impossible block in my throat. It constricted my breathing and caused tears to pool in my eyes.

Edward's tears followed mine as he was shouting at his father. I could hear the angry tenure of his voice, risen above rationality before it cut off abruptly. His father had slapped him. It left an angry red mark on his cheek and I winced at the same time as I saw his scarlet face. I was holding the iron spiked fence, gripping it for dear life as Edward's screaming returned with renewed volume. He left the room with a mixed spread of emotions on his face. I saw both determination and disgust written on his beautiful features as he left the view through the window, his steps hollow and heavy.

His father appeared at the doorway seconds later.

"Sorry, Bella. It's time for you to go," he said, polite for the first time.

"I only just got here," I retorted, sounding much like a petulant child in my denial. A look crossed his face that was cold enough to freeze the seven seas and intense enough to make a lion quiver with fear. I left without another word spoken.

I waited all through the evening on the bench outside. I wrapped myself closely into my summer jacket, the evening unseasonably cold for June. I held the locket tightly, reminiscing my time with Edward.

He appeared around ten thirty, his eyes red around the rims. The mask of indifference broke when he saw me on the rusty iron bench, twisting into pain. His tears flowed relentlessly as he pulled me into the safe embrace of his arms. Placing a kiss on the top of my head, he spoke.

"We have to leave tonight. My father has changed jobs, so we're moving to Alaska. I can't take you with me but I'll always love you. I'll always think of you, but I hope that you'll move on, you've always deserved better," he said, peppering my forehead with light kisses.

I stood still. Stunned, I was unable to speak, unable to think, unable to stop him. He placed one more kiss on the tip of my nose, turning for the car. He got in and drove away.

I never saw him again.

_Hi, Laura here. I wrote this really quickly and it's not betad, none of my stories are, so I apologise for any mistakes. I might carry on, depending how much you guys enjoy it! As always, feel free to say hi, I don't bite much :) _

_Anyhoo,hae a nice day, bye xxx :D_


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